


Good Job

by LittleGreenPlasticSoldier



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Heavenly Hosts, big announcement, fermented goats milk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 09:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12861696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleGreenPlasticSoldier/pseuds/LittleGreenPlasticSoldier
Summary: Gabriel has to run an errand for his dad.





	Good Job

Gabriel crept.

Gabriel was not inclined to creep. It’s just that this particular encounter wasn’t one he was anticipating as easy.  Or quiet.  Or fun.  But he drew the short feather, so okay.

Around the corner of the doorway, in the single-roomed mud-brick dwelling, Gabriel could see her:  Young, far too young, diligent and faithful.  He caught the beatific face as she worked that evening, her innocently tilted head, and it occurred to him that for this to stick, the Gently Gently approach may not work.  Not that he’d done this before, but whatever.  Time for the trumpets.

He stepped into the threshold, waited for her to turn, and set his true self ablaze, brilliant with angelic light and glorious with heavenly power, and she cowered before him, quivering to the ground, silent and agape.

He made his most grandmotherly face and spoke lowly, with a kind palm outstretched.  “Do not be afraid young Mary.”

She stumbled back, landing hard on her backside and scratching shaky fingers through the dirt.

“No, _do_ _not_ be afraid-”

“Nh! Noh! N-n-n-”

“Mary? _Mary_.” Gabriel packed up the glow kit and leaned down toward her. “Stay with me kiddo, I need you lucid, okay?”

“Muh- m-muh-” She was starting to pale.

“ _Breathe_ , Mary,” he instructed, and swept his hand up his body to help her understand. “In?… and out…”

Mary did as instructed, in and out, and stopped again, frozen in a motif of horror.  Her doleful eyes waited for him to do whatever it was he came to do to her, so Gabriel searched his brain for what to say.

He went with formality.  “Do not be afraid,” Gabriel said again, rolling his head around with all the grand weight of a messenger of God, wafting a hand accordingly, “for you have found favour with God, and a great honour shall be bestowed upon you.”

“You’re God?!”

“ _No_. I am not God,” he corrected her firmly, and gave himself a cookie for not cashing in on that assumption.  “I am a _son_ of God.  An Angel.”

“An angel!” she sighed.

“Yah.”  Okay, this she understands.  “I bring a _message_ from God.”

“Oh.”

“Yes… are you comfortable? You sure you don’t want to sit somewhere?”

“No.” Mary nodded too, which was confusing, but clutched at the fabric of her tunic, scrunching the cloth over her heart, so Gabriel got to it before she started crying.

“You will be with child and give birth to a son,” he began, running off the words before he missed the window. “And you are to give him the name Jesus. _Jesus_ ,” he repeated emphatically. “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”

Mary stared at him for some time, then seemed to be thinking, about what he couldn’t guess.

“But how could that be?” she whispered.  “I’m a virgin.”

“Y- okay, not-” Gabriel shifted in his crouched position, resting a knee on the ground while he tackled this delicate point.  “I think- I’m pretty sure-”

“I am engaged to Joseph-”

“Y-yes, I know- but you have-” Gabriel rolled a hand, gesturing for her to fill in the blank, “done the-  You’ve, you know, actually done the… with a man…” He gestured to the blank again, but she didn’t seem to comprehend.

“I am engaged to Joseph and am a virgin so I cannot-”

“You know what? You know Elizabeth?”

Mary thought a moment.  “Well, yes.”

“How _old_ is she, right? And _she_ ’s pregnant.  She’s well up the duff.  Six months already. So, Mary, if God wants you to have a baby, don’t worry, you’re having a baby.” He nodded, feeling more confident.  “The son of God, no less.”

“Your brother,” she said, and gazed at him for confirmation.

Gabriel pursed his lips and blew out a long measured breath because he figured if Dad wanted to give the people, his people, this loophole guy who’ll cleanse their sins or whatever, okay.  You know? Okey dokey.  It’s a long game, but the flood was hardly efficient, so whatever.  The guy works in confounding ways.

But Jesus will _not_ be Gabe’s brother.  “Well, I am an angel- an _archangel_ ,” he clarifies.  Very important.  “And Jesus would be a man, so no.”

Mary deflated somewhat and looked down at the earthen floor, the red dust now coating her legs.

“But he will be amazing.” Gabriel blinked at himself and those unexpected words, but he went with it.  “He will save so many, Mary.  He is sent, by God, for everyone.  His kingdom will never end.” And he reached out to grasp her hand, letting the love he feels for his father, and his creation, pour into her through his touch, and watched her fill with hope and trust and devotion.

…

“No! I’m not going back!”

“Yes! You must! You started it so-”

“YOU started it!  This is _your_ mess! And this Jesus idea is just- It’s a patch-up Dad!”

“Hey, you don’t like it you can go swan around in some other dimension.”

Gabriel hated it when his Father got sour with him.  He always postured useless threats and hyperbole.

“Please, Gabriel, you’re the best with people,” God went on, adding coyly, “and you know, I modelled quite a few of them on your character.”

“You can’t butter me up with that,” Gabriel snapped.  “They’re such a _mess_ , Dad. They’re so… flawed.  Why’dja have to make them so… scrambley.”

God looked at his youngest son and tried not to feel hurt.  God didn’t just love his people, he liked them, even through them being awful shits.  “Well, you have to have a flaw Gabe, it’s boring otherwise. I thought you loved my people.”

“I do!” Gabe assured him.  “I do, I just- you know what? Mike and Luci are just getting to me these days.  They’re constantly at each other and, you know, I hate it.  So, okay, who’s thrown a sandal about what?”

“You’ll go?”

“Yes.”  Gabriel rolled his eyes in his wobbly head.  “Yes I will flip my flaptabulous butt down there for you.  It’s not like I can really say no anyway.”

“Thank you,” said God benevolently.  “You’re my hero.”

…

These months later, Gabriel finds himself back in Nazareth, ready to ensure this plan doesn’t run off the rails before rails are even really invented.

First, however, a drink.  If Mary needs some sort of diagram in the dirt about her expectant state, he’s gonna need something stronger than fermented goat’s milk for that.

At the inn tavern, Gabriel stands amongst his father’s creations and orders whatever is strongest, then strengthens it even more with what his grace can afford.  

Down the bench, he sees someone who’s well ahead of him, and who shouldn’t be here.  Joseph.

Following a gut hunch, Gabriel slides alongside the hapless father-to-be.  “Hey brother.  What brings you to drink alcoholic beverages on a weeknight?”

“My fiancee, she is with child,” he mumbles mournfully.

“Uh yeah, about that.” Gabe downs his first mouthful, and slaps a heavy hand on Joseph’s shoulder as he sucks air through his teeth.  “Bad news dude,” he levels, “s’not your kid.”

Joseph seems completely unsurprised. “I’ll have to divorce her.”

Gabe spits his next mouthful back into the cup.  

“I’ll have to divorce her and then she’ll be stoned to death.”

“What now? Who? _Mary_?”  Holy dung, this is bad.  Gabriel looks around furtively, hoping no one else knows why this miserable boy is here. “No, Joseph. Jo-bro. Don’t do that.  You don’t want her stoned-”

“I don’t _want_ her stoned!” Joseph whines and Gabriel flinches at his volume.  “But she’s already with child!”

“Joseph!” Gabriel scowls, “just hold your asses, okay?  For one, it’s early days.  You don’t know that for sure-”

“She is,” Joseph nodded, drinking again.  “She assured me, she hasn’t bled in months.  And then she’s been going on about God and I mean, I’m faithful! _I believe!_ But I dunno if-”

“For _two_.”  This time Gabriel holds Joseph’s arm, grips it with gravity.  “It’s _early days_.  She’s barely even showing, I’m sure, so who knows what will happen.” All he needs is some time to get Joseph on board.

“Oh it’ll hold,” Joseph nods, and downs the last of his drink. “All the women in her family get pregnant very easily.  Seriously,” he glares at Gabriel, “having babies runs in the family.”

“You don’t say.”

“And I was so sure she was a virgin.” Joseph stares at the cup, his whole face slowly slipping sad, eyebrows, lips and cheeks near dripping from his face.

Gabe peers at him, because Joseph, at his age, would surely know how this baby making thing happens… maybe he really is getting a half-brother.

“She’s just a child!” Joseph whispers, bottom lip starting to shake. “I don’t know what else I can do!” His face creases into tears and he presses his forehead on his arm for a sob or two.  Gabe pats him on the back with all the kind commiserations his frustrated hand can manage.

Moments later though, Joseph has stopped crying.  Stopped moving altogether, actually, and after a few quiet shakes Gabe is sure he’s passed out.  

Gabriel gathers him up - “Oh, oh Joseph, you gotta lay off the naan man!” he says loudly, feigning the effort - and carries him out the door.  

In a stable nearby, Gabe lays Joseph in the straw and prepares to go the full mojo on Jojo.  With a touch to the forehead, the angel sweeps away Joseph’s inebriation.  “Awaken Joseph.”

Joseph sucks in a breath, opening his eyes to the blinding sight of an archangel standing tall before him, wings vast and majestic, and the magnificence takes away all breath and thought.

“Joseph, son of David-” Gabriel uses his grandest voice, because there is no way in Heaven he is going to come back for this crap again.  “Do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

“I- I- but.  But she-”

“Joseph I will tell you this _once_.” Gabriel steps forward and lets Joseph curl back with terror, lets him feel his mortality and take up the penitence his faith inspires.  “Divorcing Mary will sentence her to death.  Kill her and you’re killing a child of God, the son of God.  Take her as your wife.”

“I will- I’ll take her-”

“Love her, love this son.”

“I- I will, I pr- I will.”  Joseph moves, as though his body’s met electricity, and shuffles himself up to sit and gape.  “I will take her as my wife and keep God’s son with love.”

“Good,” says Gabriel.  “Don’t make me come down here again.”

“No. No sir.”

“Alright.”  Gabe checks the area, and once he’s content no one had witnessed anything, he leans down to boop Joseph on the forehead and watches him slump into the straw.  “Sweet dreams Jojo, get your rest.  Parenthood’s a bitch.”

…

“Why!  Why shepherds?!” he gripes, and mimics his father with a mocking tone.  “Oooh because they’re lowly and meek and it’ll give it a nice _air_ of modesty. God-” Gabriel lets out a breath. “Always with the high drama.”

He stands by a large boulder, high on the hill, above the flock and the shepherds who watch it.  They’d noticed the star it seemed, but God had quickly figured that, except for the few Kings who knew what was up, it was way too vague a sign.

Gabriel is trying to bolster himself with his father’s words about his people skills and think about what approach would work best on shepherds, these regular farmer-type guys who, seriously, who wouldn’t ever give a dingleberry about someone else’s kid.  What could be convincing enough to make them leave their post?

Nothing.  Not one-upmanship, not The Son of God Says You, not the long-ass hike it is to get to the manger, and certainly not Gabriel being all flappy and golden, because what can’t be explained with more even fermented goat’s milk?

This needs reinforcements.

The whole thing is already taking entirely too long.

Before the heavenly hordes, Gabriel opens his arms and announces “Who’s up for a field trip?”  They stare, stunned at the archangel’s uncommon appearance.

“Come on, a _literal_ field trip huh?  That’s special!  You want?”

No response.

“Okay I’m calling it.”  Gabriel pulls rank and points at a corner pocket of the crowd.  “From you, to you, stand behind me.  Don’t talk, don’t do anything, just be all glowy and impressive, okay? Okay.”

Moments later they’re hovering above the shepherds, filling the sky with the light of a fast dawn, and thrilling the men to their knees.  Gabriel tells them to go to Bethlehem, go directly to Bethlehem, don’t wait, just go, the herd will be fine, and find the manger by the inn so that they may lay their eyes on the Son of God just born.  “Like, I know he’s not related to you, but he’s been _sent_.  For your _sins_.  He’s the Messiah!  True story!”

The shepherds stumble away and Gabriel turns to the angels, clapping for their effort.  “Okay everyone, thank you!  Good job!” He waves them back toward heaven and keeps clapping as they drift away. “Good job guys, look a that, didn’t even rehearse it.  Very nice.”

…

A few thousand years later and Gabriel is watching the birth of another first born son.  This infant’s existence has been contrived for the indulgence of Gabriel’s brothers, and soon enough there’ll be another young boy born to bring it all together.  It’ll only take time and persistence, and Gabriel, for all his power, won’t be enough to stop it.  His father gave up long ago, best he can tell, and Gabriel opted out, went incognito, even earlier.

Any number of interventions could’ve prevented this, but his father apparently doesn’t care.  So neither does he.  It’ll only take another twenty years or so, and that time won’t be enough for Gabriel’s jaded heart to find hope.  But he will help mankind again, in the end, and not because his father asks him to, but because a brother needs it.


End file.
